As a doorman I didn’t know who wanted in,
who out. As an anesthesiologist, I wanted
every one awake between the rotten heart
cut out and the motorcyclist’s installed
to say how it felt. Under the robe,
I wore a holster. I became unafraid
of ladders. I confused the word career
with careen. I was a walk-on bastard
with three lines dispensed by the second scene.
